


Who Are You?

by narumimakoto



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, yet another hanahaki au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narumimakoto/pseuds/narumimakoto
Summary: Zen, someone the R.F.A. believed to be practically invincible, has been bedridden for a week.





	Who Are You?

This week had been rough to say the least. Zen had missed the latest R.F.A party and 4 days worth of practice for his newest role, and he was sure to miss many more.

He had fallen ill _, incredibly ill_. For someone like Zen, whose self care routine was practically his religion, waking and seeing your eyes bloodshot, your skin pale as a ghost, and your face sunken in was just about the worst thing that could happen.

His symptoms were incredibly vague at this point: heavy cough, body aches, sore throat, etc. He was sure it was the flu, but it had to be worst, and definitely strongest, flu ever. And no medicine helped either. At least none that he could get his hands in without going to see a doctor. He simply assumed that he would get over this quickly since he very rarely ever got sick and his bodily wounds always healed within days.

But now it was day 10 with this mystery flu and he was now jobless and feeling worse than he had ever felt in his whole life. His chest had begun ache with an unbearable pain, the only comparison to it being that he felt like someone was slowly ripping apart his lungs from the inside out.

He no longer had the strength to leave his bed. He had been relying on Yoosung over the past weekend to help him, but school was back in session and Zen didn’t have it in him to make Yoosung skip all because he’d managed to catch a terrible bug. So Saeyoung was here now, and it seemed that with every passing second Zen was around him, the pain grew worse and worse and _worse_.

“It’s a bit weird to see the almighty Zen bedridden for so long.” Saeyoung peeked up at Zen over the top of his laptop. He was sat on the floor next to Zen’s bed, leaning against the wall as he continued to work on the computer he’d brought. _It grew worse._

“I feel like I’m on my deathbed.” Zen could barely speak now. His throat ached with every breath, actually talking felt like a thousand daggers being repeatedly stabbed into his neck. _And worse._

“I already told you I don’t mind taking you to a doctor. Jumin even said he’d get you into one free of charge since nobody’s sure what _this_ is and if it requires treatment.” Saeyoung offered. _And worse._

“I don’t want to move. It hurts too bad. I’m fine just laying down when you-” Zen began to cough uncontrollably. Saeyoung jumped to his feet immediately, helping Zen hunch over to cough.

Zen gripped at his neck, the feeling of something rising in his throat and scratching everything on its way up. It hurt, _dear god it hurt_. He felt as if his lung itself was ready to come out of his mouth any second now. But instead, blood came out first, and was shortly followed by a sight Zen might have believed to be the work on a hallucination had he not experienced the pain first hand.

A single flower fell into his lap, mostly intact and without a stem. The pain seemed to ease for now and the coughing had stopped, but now he had another problem on his hands, literally.

“What the fuck.” Saeyoung whispered. He took his eyes off of the blood and saliva covered flower resting on Zen’s lap and looked up at him. “What the _fuck_?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymo-” Zen began to choke, entering another coughing fit. And pretty soon another flower fell into his lap. “Nevermind…”

“This is a _whole flower_.” Saeyoung’s voice was still low, obviously shocked and definitely a little scared.

“I’m well aware. It just came out of _my_ throat.” Zen began to cough again, this time only blood coming out.

“I need to make a call.” Saeyoung quickly excused himself and left Zen’s bedroom. Zen quickly hears his front door shut and wonders just who he’s calling that he doesn’t want to risk Zen hearing their conversation at all.

Zen stretched, confused by the sudden lack of pain in his body. He picked both flowers up out of his lap and laid back against his headboard. He dangled the flower in front of him, plucking a petal off to reconfirm that it was indeed real and it had indeed come out of him. He leaned over to his nightstand and picked his phone up, an item that just 15 minutes ago felt as if it was a million miles away due to the pain that enveloped him.

Googling his flower vomit brought up nothing but fanart and stories for series he had never heard of. This wasn’t some fictional story, damn it. This was real and it was happening to Zen.

His useless internet searching was brought to an end as Saeyoung burst into his room.

“Can you walk?” Saeyoung questioned him frantically while he began to gather up his computer and various files he had spread across Zen’s floor.

“Probably just barely. I’ve been bedridden for nearly two weeks.”

“Then I’ll just carry you to the car instead.” Saeyoung shoved his belongings into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder. He then knelt down next to Zen’s bed, waiting for Zen to get on his back.

“Oh, you weren’t joking.” Zen laughed awkwardly.

“Of course I wasn't. Just get on my back.” Saeyoung demanded. Zen managed to sit back up and crawl off of his bed onto Saeyoung’s back, the pain in his chest slowly beginning to come back the closer he got to him. _It grew worse_.

“Damn, your heart’s pounding suuuuper hard, I can feel it. Did that little movement take that much outta you?” Saeyoung laughed and then stood back up effortlessly, despite the weight of a full grown man on his back. Zen held onto Saeyoung with what little strength he had. He wrapped his arms around Saeyoung’s waist while he rest his head on his shoulder. Even through his shirt, Zen could feel just _how_ muscular Saeyoung was. Even knowing what Saeyoung did for a living, he had always thought Saeyoung to just… have the body of a basic shut-in. Skinny, weak, totally pale. But Saeyoung was extremely built, enough so for Zen to consider him hot. _And worse._

“Sorry, I had to park down the street a little ways. Just a sec and you’ll be able to sit back down.” Saeyoung turned his head slightly to look at Zen as they walked down the sidewalk outside Zen’s house. Zen looked up as he did, they two making eye contact briefly. Zen felt his face flush red, his pulse speed up, and his chest grow tighter. _And worse._

“Sa-Saeyoung, I-” Zen began to cough again, blood coming up in chunks and staining the shoulder of Saeyoung’s shirt.

“Hold on. Hold on.” Saeyoung let go of one of Zen’s legs to unlock the car and then he set him down in the passenger seat. Zen continued to cough while Saeyoung ran around to the drivers side. He got in and threw his bag into the back, grabbing a shirt off the backseat as he did. Saeyoung took the shirt he was wearing off and handed it to Zen.

“Cough into this.” Saeyoung told him, pulling the other shirt on. Zen stared at Saeyoung’s bare chest as long as he could, before he was interrupted by another coughing fit. _And worse._

“I’m not going to ruin your shirt.” Zen handed the shirt back to Saeyoung and covered his mouth his hands.

“Okay, then it’s yours now. No moral rule against getting your own blood on your own shirt, right?” Saeyoung grinned at Zen. Zen began to cough heavily again, heaving up another blood stained flower into the shirt Saeyoung had given him. He stared at blankly this time. The initial shock of seeing the first flower left him. He was already tired of this and he knew it was only going to get worse.

“Came in handy, see?” Saeyoung laughed weakly and then started the car, pulling away from the curb at an alarming speed.

“Okay, Greased Lightning. Where exactly are we going?” Zen choked out, his throat hoarse once again.

“To meet Jumin.”

“I’m getting out. Stop the car.” Saeyoung laughed and then screamed, pulling over to the edge of the road quickly once he realized Zen was _actually_ unbuckling to get out of the car.

“If it’ll help, you’ll barely have to see him. We’re just using him, his money, to get you to a, uh… special doctor.” Saeyoung explained, forcibly pushing Zen back down and buckling him back up. “He’s not bad like you think he is. Once we all realized you weren’t getting better, _he_ began to look into different doctors to help based on your complaints in the chat and what he could get out of Yoosung.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like him.” Zen pouted. Saeyoung chuckled and made his way onto the street again, at a normal speed this time.

“You’re right, you’re right. I just wanted to make sure you knew how much he’s trying to help. I, for one, am eternally grateful! I- We all, the R.F.A., all care about you deeply. We want whatever this is gone as much as you do.” Saeyoung look over at Zen as they pulled up to a stoplight and smiled softly. “I hope to God this helps.”

* * *

 

“He appears to be in worse condition than you previously described.” Jumin greeted Saeyoung and Zen in the lobby of his building. Saeyoung, once again carrying Zen on his back, laughed.

“He’s doing _slightly_ better. I think Mr. Drama Queen here just likes to carried. Maybe I should try a bridal carry next time?” Saeyoung glanced over his shoulder at Zen, who immediately averted his gaze as his face flushed red.

“In any case, we should get going. Assistant Kang.” Jumin called out and Jaehee appeared by his side.

“Yes, Mr. Han.”

“Is the helicopter ready to leave?” Jumin asked.

“Yes, Mr. Han. The pilot is ready and waiting for us on the roof.”

“Perfect. Then, let us take our leave.” Jumin made his way towards the elevator, taking the group to the roof once they were all inside.

“Nobody has told me where we’re going yet.” Zen sighed.

“An underground doctor in Busan. He deals with very… special cases such as your own.” Jumin answered.

* * *

The doctor’s office looked more like a witch’s shop than a place for a doctor to perform any sort of medical procedure. The room was barely lit, one single lamp in the far right corner and some candles lining the doctor’s desk seemed to be enough for him. The walls were covered in various tapestries and crystals hung from random points in the ceiling.

Jumin, Saeyoung, and Zen were seated on stools in front of the doctor’s desk. Jaehee stayed behind at the helicopter in case she needed to quickly prepare anything for the journey back to Seoul.

“So this is what you’ve been throwing up?” The mysterious doctor picked up the flower that Zen had thrown up and wrapped in Saeyoung’s shirt.

“Only two of them so far.” Zen began to cough again as he answered. Saeyoung watched him with worried eyes and then brought his attention back to the doctor.

“So can you fix it?” Saeyoung asked, almost begging.

“Do you know _why_ you’re vomiting flowers?” The doctor ignored Saeyoung and pointed a finger at Zen. “Hanahaki disease. A strange sickness that is believed to have begun in Japan. Currently, most people believe it to be nothing but an old folk tale, a fantasy. It is, however, very real. The victim of this disease acquires it by simply being in unrequited love with someone. The feelings must be _deep_.”

“How-” Zen paused. His throat was incredibly sore which in turn made it nearly impossible to speak. “How do I get better?”

“You have two options. One.” The doctor held up a boney and calloused finger. “One cure is to have the feelings returned. It sounds like it, but that’s anything but easy. And, since that way you must leave the root inside of you, that risks allowing the root to spread to the point of crushing your lungs and heart. Or two. We cut it out. In doing so, it will remove any memories of the person you are so deeply in love with.”

“Cut it out.” Saeyoung answered before Zen even had a chance to think.

“H-hold on. I don’t want to lose my memories.” Zen rejected the offer.

“Then do you think there is any way for the feeling to become reciprocated?” The doctor inquired.

Zen glanced around the room, over at Saeyoung, then back at the doctor. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Operation it is then.” The doctor smiled, obviously pleased to have some actual money earning business.

“How much… will it cost?” Zen croaked out.

“10 million won.”

“I-I- There’s no way I can afford th-” Zen began.

“Consider it paid. I will contact you on my own to receive the necessary details to send you the payment.” Jumin interrupted Zen and then left the room.

“Wonderful! Please come with me. I assure you everything in my operating room is state of the art.” The doctor smiled and led Zen out of the room, leaving only Saeyoung behind.

* * *

“You sure he’ll be okay?” Saeyoung asked Jumin as he paced around outside the building where they were both waiting.

“Of course I am not 100% certain, but I firmly believe he will be alright.” Jumin reassured Saeyoung.

“We’re all good if you want to come see him now.” The doctor came out of the building and brought Saeyoung and Jumin back inside. He lead them past his office, to a new part of the building that looked like a real hospital. White tiles, various nurses walking through the halls, the familiar beep of machines inside each room they passed.

Saeyoung had never been fond of hospitals. He had never been a patient in one himself, only been there to visit someone. But he felt that made it worse. Hospitals to him were nothing but a place where his loved ones went when they were suffering. V had died in one, Saeran had been in one for months after going through such horrendous trauma, and now Zen was here, dying from a fairy tale disease.

They eventually stopped outside the room Zen was in, and Saeyoung couldn’t feel any less prepared to see him. Hours ago he was coughing up blood in his passenger seat and now he might be cured. It just seemed too unreal to believe it all.

Jumin seemed composed, but to Saeyoung’s trained eye, he could tell he was worried. Anyone who didn’t know Jumin wouldn’t notice how his eyes soften just barely, he refuses eye contact, and clenches his jaw slightly when he’s worried.

The doctor opened the door and the three of them went into the small room where Zen was now resting. Zen sat up, weakly and slowly, and glared at Jumin.

“ _You’re_ still here?” Zen groaned.

“Seeing as how I am the one paying for this, it only seemed natural for me to wait to see the result.” Jumin closed his eyes and sighed. Saeyoung moved out from behind Jumin, overwhelmingly happy upon seeing Zen looking better already. It was only a little bit, but he could tell removing whatever it was growing in his chest was already improving his condition.

“Ah! You survived!” Saeyoung walked over to the hospital bed Zen was on and grabbed his hand. “Coming to a shady doctor like him, we were worried you were gonna-” Saeyoung let go of Zen’s hand and slid his finger across his throat as he closed his eyes and hung his tongue out one side of his mouth.

“Oh, uh…” Zen pulled his hand away from the edge and rest in his lap. He looked at Saeyoung awkwardly.

“Who are you?”

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing fics with happy endings? it is definitely less likely than you think
> 
> i'll be back to working on my multi-chapter fics and some stuff for people Soon but in the mean time take my angst


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